He caught her, she fell, he caught her in his arms, he held her tightly unconscious of what he was doing. He held her up, though tottering himself. He felt as if his head were filled with smoke; flashes of light slipped through his eyelids; his thoughts vanished; it seemed to him that he was performing a religious act, and that he was committing a profanation. Moreover, he did not feel one passionate desire for this ravishing woman, whose form he felt against his heart. He was lost in love.
Love may, indeed, love the beloved when her beauty is lost: but not because it is lost. love may forgive all infirmities and love still in spite of them: but love cannot cease to will their removal. love is more sensitive than hatred itself to every blemish in the beloved… of all powers he forgives most, but he condones least: he is pleased with little, but demands all.